


New Threads for Adrien

by sagansjagger



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Clothes Shopping, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Shopping, Shopping Malls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagansjagger/pseuds/sagansjagger
Summary: At first, it was little things.Which restaurant do you want to go to, Adrien? What game do you want to play? Do you want to brush my hair? And so on. And Marinette had never pushed him to answer her. She’d always expressed her opinion when asked. But the tender way she asked him to choose certain things had helped him bloom.---Or, the time Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrien's girlfriend, encourages him to pick out his own clothes.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 32
Kudos: 165





	New Threads for Adrien

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missnoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missnoodles/gifts).



“You want to take me where?” Adrien said, blinking down at his girlfriend. Marinette was beaming from ear to ear, leaning back in his arms next to her desk.

“Pimkie,” Marinette said, kissing the underside of his smooth chin. He’d shaved today, just for her, and he was looking forward to making out again, but Marinette clearly had other ideas. “It’s a clothing shop in the Westfield Forum mall. You’ll like it.”

“Are my clothes bad?” Adrien said, glancing down at his usual white overshirt and black tee combo.

“No, no, no, no,” Marinette said, releasing him to windmill her arms in front of him. “But… you always wear Gabriel brand clothing. It seems as if you’ve never picked your own clothes out. Don’t you want to try?”

Adrien considered that. He really hadn’t ever picked out his own clothes; all of his had been selected by his father, down to his orange Converse-like knock offs. Everything he wore was from the brand, and his closet was filled with the accumulated detritus of countless photoshoots. 

“I guess I could go for a new sweater,” Adrien said, musing on what he could possibly pick up at a clothing store. He’d never been to one before, and had no idea what they offered. “It’s getting cold, now that the seasons are turning. But… Do you really think I could pick out my own clothes? Without help?”

“Absolutely you can,” Marinette said, and Adrien lost himself in the way her bluebell eyes sparkled.

They had to take a taxi to the mall, but Adrien didn’t mind. Marinette used the ride as an excuse to snuggle up under his arm, stretching her seatbelt as far as it would go. If Adrien had been transformed, he could have gotten to Westfield a whole lot faster vaulting over the rooftops rather than sitting idly in traffic, but that would have left Marinette behind. 

Plus, he wasn’t ready to tell Marinette that he was Chat, anyway. Ladybug knew he was dating someone, but he had promised his partner that he wouldn’t reveal himself without her permission.

Instead of thinking about Ladybug, Adrien spent the ride to the mall growing more and more excited about the thought of picking out clothes. He’d so very rarely had options before dating Marinette, and often shied away from exercising his ability to make choices. But Marinette, in her kind and gentle way, had encouraged him to decide on things for himself.

At first, it was little things. 

Which restaurant do you want to go to, Adrien? What game do you want to play? Do you want to brush my hair? And so on. And Marinette had never pushed him to answer her. She’d always expressed her opinion when asked. But the tender way she asked him to choose certain things had helped him bloom.

And now they were going to pick out new clothes for him. How many choices would he get to make in doing _that_? And Marinette would be with him every step of the way, helping him up if he faltered and praising him for being able to decide.

He couldn’t wait.

Adrien and Marinette strolled hand in hand into the underground shopping center in the first arrondissement. To access the always-teeming mall, they had to descend long escalators from street level. Adrien marveled at the architectural feats of the engineers; the ground floor of the newly-reconstructed mall was topped by a gigantic canopy made of glass. They found Pimkie--one of the one hundred and sixty-eight stores spread over five levels--tucked between a Sephora and a Marionnaud on the third floor.

Marinette stopped by the glass sliding doors at the entrance and squeezed Adrien’s hand. She offered him a shy smile. “Okay,” she said, and Adrien blinked at her. “I want you to know that you can pick whatever you wish. But you’re under no pressure from me to pick anything at all. You can try on anything--or nothing, if you prefer. This is about you, Adrien, and I’m here to support you.”

Adrien kissed her knuckles. “Thank you, Marinette.”

“Anytime, Adrien,” his girlfriend said, beaming at him. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Adrien said, perking up. “Let’s do this.”

Marinette giggled--adorably, Adrien thought--and tugged him inside the clothing store. He gladly followed. 

The first thing he noticed about Pimkie was that the store predominately featured women’s clothing. That was okay, he decided--his first choice of the day--because he didn’t mind wearing more feminine attire. But he really wanted to see if he could find a black sweater. Black was his favorite color, and he knew he couldn’t look bad in black.

Marinette released his hand and pushed him towards a circular rack. He grinned over his shoulder and started pawing through the shirts. “What about this one?” he said, lifting the hanger of a tie-dye peasant-style T-shirt with flowing sleeves and a lace-up collar.

To his surprise, Marinette grimaced. Momentarily. She schooled her features into a more neutral expression immediately afterwards. “It’s great!”

Adrien put the shirt back. “But you don’t like it?”

“Adrien,” Marinette said gently, laying a hand on his arm. “Whatever you like, I want you to wear. Please don’t take my opinion as the end all, be all, okay? I will try not to influence your decisions.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I want you to pick for yourself, and develop your own style. The best gift I can give you is to be enthusiastic about your choices.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, giving her a shaky smile. “I’ll try.”

Marinette did an admirable job of being cheerfully accepting of his choices from then on, offering him multiple thumbs ups over the course of the day. He gathered jeans ripped in equal sections from the hems to the thighs, plaid tights and a matching ruffly skirt that his father would strike him dead in if Adrien were caught wearing them, and a color-blocked bodysuit that resembled a Mondrian painting.

Above all, what surprised Adrien the most was the way he gravitated towards _color_. The only black item he picked out was a tank top that he knew would show off his broad shoulders. He had put it back after Marinette had told him what most people called those styles of shirts. 

But colors appealed to him, more than he thought they would. And texture, too. He picked out a neon green vest with decorative tassels. He picked out a T-shirt with a pattern that looked like a stained glass window made of dinosaur shapes with raised piping. He picked out a baby blue sweater with attached oven mitts that felt like a furry cloud.

Marinette had sat down on one of the stuffed ottomans, claiming she had a headache. Adrien had expressed his condolences. He paused long enough to buy her a bottle of water from one of the Quick-E-Marts, letting her rest while he did so. After he returned, he went back to selecting clothes.

Now he had armfuls and armfuls of them. Marinette was pressing her half-empty bottle to her head. 

“Now that I have the clothes, Marinette,” Adrien said, trying to maintain a soft tone just in case her headache flared up at the sound of his voice, “what do I do?”

“Try them on,” Marinette said, glancing up at him from her seated position, her hands dropping into her lap, the bottle hanging.

Adrien nodded. _Try them on. Of course._ He set his choices down on the ottoman and stripped of his overshirt. Then he reached for the hem of his undershirt, and started lifting it over his head. 

“W-W-What are you doing, Adrien?” Marinette said, her voice bordering on a shriek. 

“Changing?” Adrien said, pausing with his shirt halfway over his head. He finished taking it off so he could look at her. “Am I not supposed to try them on?”

“Oh, my gosh,” Marinette said, and actually facepalmed. When she looked up, her cheeks were dusted with pink. “You’re such a model. There are _changing rooms_ for that kind of thing. Put your shirt back on, and take six of these… items to the front desk. They’ll give you a key to one of the rooms, okay?”

“Ohhhh,” Adrien said, and decided against flipping his shirt over his shoulder like he wanted to. Another choice he was happy to have made. He put his undershirt back on and shrugged back into his overshirt. Marinette was studiously avoiding looking at him, and he wondered why.

“Marinette?” he said, staring at his feet. He peeked at her from under his lashes. “Are you… Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, no, no,” Marinette said, her blown gaze flashing to him. “I… I just…” She bit her lip. “I’ve never seen you shirtless outside of a photoshoot. You look good.” She set the water bottle down and covered her blushing face with her hands. “Really, really good.”

Adrien perked up. He didn’t know he could have that sort of effect on his girlfriend, and he liked it. Adrien crouched down in front of her, and gently peeled her hands away from her face. “Thanks, Marinette,” he said, and stole a kiss from her lips. “I appreciate that. I’ll go get changed now, mmkay?”

“Sure,” Marinette said, offering him a smile so sweet, he felt his heart bursting. 

He kissed her knuckles and stood. Stooping over the ottoman and reviewing his choices, he picked out the six outfits that he liked best, and went to try them on. 

He layered the neon green vest, dinosaur shirt, and ripped jeans. The jeans were a little too tight, but they showed off his butt perfectly.

This one. This was definitely the outfit for him.

Marinette seemed stunned. “Wow,” was all she could say. He grinned at her.

He discarded the cloud sweater, plaid tights and skirt, and Mondrian-painting body suit. In the end, he only had the one outfit, but he felt it was enough.

After he had paid for his purchases and was leaving, arm-in-arm with Marinette and a plastic bag slung over his shoulder, something hanging on a rack near the door caught his eye.

“Oh,” Adrien said, releasing Marinette and dropping the bag on the floor. He was drawn to the item of clothing, pulled by a gravitational force stronger than he’d ever felt. 

“What?” Marinette said, following him. She’d picked up the bag. “What is it, Adrien?”

“I want this,” Adrien said, his eyes wide, and growing wider by the second as he stroked the soft, flannel material of the Chat Noir-themed, full-body pyjama onesie. The piping matched his suit, and there were cat ears on the hoodie. There was even a stylized belt wrapped around the waist.

“That’s… That’s pretty cute,” Marinette said, sighing. “I love Chat Noir.”

Adrien’s head whipped towards her. “You love Chat Noir?”

“... themed stuff!” Marinette said, lifting her fists to her chin, the plastic bag bouncing in her grip. “I mean, he does have the cutest fashion sense, don’t you think? That suit! And… those muscles… I mean!”

A slow grin spread on Adrien’s lips. He dropped the onesie and turned to her. “Is he more handsome than me?”

“No!” Marinette said, backpedaling. “I mean… No, no he’s not!”

“I don’t know, I think he’s pretty good looking,” Adrien said, and just to subtly drive her wild, flexed his chest under his tight shirt. Her eyes snapped to his pecs, so he knew she saw. “After all, he does have those _rippling_ deltoids…”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?” Marinette demanded, poking Adrien in the chest he’d just flexed. He captured her hand in his and laid kisses all the way up her arm. She shrieked and tried to pull away, so he let her.

“I’m just commenting on this obsession of yours, is all!” Adrien said playfully, reaching out and tickling her waist. She danced away from him, and he followed. 

“I’m not obsessed with Chat Noir!” Marinette said, wriggling away from him. “I’m obsessed with… with you, okay?”

That stopped him short. “With me?”

Marinette peeked at him from under her lashes. “Yeah. Didn’t you know, Adrien? I’ve loved you for years.”

“Years?” Adrien said, stepping close to her again. She didn’t shy away, so he cupped her cheek. “Really?”

“Yes, Adrien,” Marinette said, and once again he lost himself in her beautiful, bluebell eyes. “Years.”

He kissed her then, unable to hold himself back any longer. He glided his lips over hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The plastic bag bounced against his back, but he didn’t care. His hands roamed over hers, pressing their chests together, and he opened his mouth for her, inviting her in.

That was the best choice he’d made all day. She licked his gums, shooting fire through his body and making him dizzy. He began to tease her tongue with hers, but one of the clerks cleared their throat, catching his attention. Marinette pulled back, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

“Adrien,” she whispered, her lips kiss swollen and her blue gaze blown, “we’re in public.”

“Oh,” Adrien said, having forgotten that inconsequential detail. “Sorry, I, uh…”

She shook her head, her face lighting up like a traffic light. “So, um, did you still want the Chat Noir onesie?”

He grinned at her. “Of course.”

Yes, Adrien realized. Dating Marinette was the most awesome decision he’d ever made.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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> 
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